


As One Taste The Devils Lips

by itsferrisbtw



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28031637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsferrisbtw/pseuds/itsferrisbtw
Summary: One may seek to feel for anotherOne may avoid this at all costOne may want to dance with the devilOne may want to avoid the consequencesBut you can never run far from the beast that carries feeling
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 32





	As One Taste The Devils Lips

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for fun and i dunno, just kinda a one off thing that i didn't want in my drabbles book  
> Do i even gotta say it at this point?  
> Don't show to the creators  
> This is fiction  
> That is all

Really…. _ what was he doing? _

George had never really fallen this low before, especially with a bottle in hand. He never  _ wanted  _ to be this low. The brisk chilling air against the clear night sky didn’t help matters either, as he stood on his porch. Alone. The dim street lamps lining the empty streets, the uncomfortable warmth in the tips of his fingers as his free hand had gripped his elbow, and the other hand holding a drained bottle of what used to be rum. What was he doing like this? He was having to lay himself against the scratchy bricks of the entrance, to have some sort of balance to it all. 

But his mind had drifted elsewhere. In many places, actually. Everywhere but nowhere, wasn’t that the feeling? The feeling weighing down on him as if a blanket of anvils had taken to his head, to his shoulders, and eventually weighing to where he even stood. He didn’t want to move. It’d only be exhausting to try to drag himself back inside. What exactly was on his mind, though? Well, there was a face or two. Dream, to be precise. Dream and their conversation  _ before  _ he decided to drink the memory away. 

It was them, laughing away at a mod the two had attempted to make together. An attempts to make another realm other than the nether, which they both called The Freezer. The complete opposite of the Nether. Crystal ice sliding them around too much, causing them to get too far from the portal, shoving each other on the ice, and messing with the work in progress custom mobs. Most were just animals, but had icy decor on them. They were either weak or Hilariously strong. An ice chicken knocking Dream almost half-way across the realm after he tried to smack it for some ice chicken. Which neither had implemented yet. 

But it was after the two of them were basically crying at the icy enders picking up their players an putting them right back by each other in game, a sigh of a laughing wheeze had escaped Dream, as george could hear him adjust in his chair. Probably laying back in it. "George I don't know where the fuck you get these ideas- but it's so good-" Dream had laughed, and George rubbing his own face a bit. He didn't know the time and honestly it didn't matter, he was having fun with his friend. That's what did. "I'll try to implement the drops that they give later, it's pretty late for you, isn't it?" Dream had spoke up after a bit, and a small 'hm' making a short response. "Well...you should sleep. I don't wanna be the cause you get fucking back pains or whatever-" "my posture isnt  _ that _ bad, Dream.." he laughed as Dream..was quiet to the joke. 

".. You've been staying up later and later each time we get on, Gogy… and you really only do that if you're avoiding something I think.." Dream had spoke softly, as dream in the game was still as stone. He wasn't focused on it like he was before… and neither was George. "I'm not avoiding anything, Dream... don't worry yourself-" 

"George."

"Dream… Please." A sudden gentle douse of discomfort had shown itself in George's tone. He didn't want to reveal what'd been on his mind. What he'd been avoiding and hoping it'd just go away in a few days like it was nothing. 

"Georgie….talk to me, please.."

"I'd rather not... it's nothing against you, I'm just not ready to talk about it…"

And there was the words Dream needed. To show something really was wrong and he was avoiding it with other things rather than tackling the issue. "Well can you tell me if it was something recent, or just...old memories?" He asked after a short lived silence. George didn't really know how to answer that. It was  _ both. _ "I guess the both of them… Going on now but dates back for awhile..." George softly spoke, holding at his hoodie uncomfortably. He didn't like feeling pressured to talk, but Dream wasn't even pressuring him. He didn't want Dream to be a therapist of sorts- he wanted him to not  _ know. _

"I get that… maybe um.. start with the old. If you wanna talk about it that is-" "I don't." A quick response, and the uncomfortable feeling hanging over his head that he was only making their situation worse. "..is it about me?" Oh god. George had held his head in his hands, trying to keep himself collected in this conversation. Dream had already saw through him that it was about  **_him._ ** "N-nothing bad, it's nothing bad Dream…" he didn't know what to say, but that's what he was left with. "We're getting somewhere... that's good at least.." he had heard Dream let out a light, genuine laugh. 

"Well...so it's about me but it's not bad, you can tell me Gogy." He added to his statement, but it only made things hurt  _ worse. _ He couldn't tell him, because he knew- oh he  **_knew_ ** he wouldn't feel the same way. He made it apparent with the jokes, the teasing, and them all being fine at first.. until he decided to accidentally get feelings. George didn't think they'd last. Only a short lived thing, a stupid one day crush. But then it turned to a few days, to a week, two weeks, and now here. An uncomfortable silence…

And so to release the beast that the devil may torture to his own free will.

"I… have- feelings for you..." He struggled to put together the beginning parts of this miserable confession. "A few weeks ago, I just… thought about you a lot. And romantically, even if you never showed interest… I didn't want to feel this an I thought it'd just go away like some stupid fucking crush, but it didn't. For weeks. I wanted to distract any thought of it-  _ anything  _ to not think of being  _ there  _ with  **_you._ ** I wanted to keep our relationship intact- a regular friendship and just keep playing into that but whenever I try to stop, you just take over my fucking head and I'm…. I'm just left alone with feelings I never wanted…" Like the devil wanted his lips, and the warmth that they carried. But deep down he didn't care whether it was a bad idea or not. He wanted to taste the devil on his lips even if the consequences may last for a lifetime. 

"I'm sorry, dream… "

And a quick end of the call they were stuck on. It didn't feel relieving in the slightest. It felt  _ worse  _ because now Dream was either going to avoid him, or let him down gently. It didn't matter, the damage was already done. 

He was stuck.

Alone.

The dead of the night on his porch, empty rum bottle… he couldn't feel his hands anymore. Was it really that cold? There was no one, there was nothing. He left his phone inside so he wouldn't be bothered by it.. and it only seemed the bottles fire was catching up to him. The slow shut of his tired eyes, curled up on the porch ground… he wouldn't remember carrying himself back inside, but the mind would slip into the hell he made it for himself. 

A tight, unusual yet familiar embrace from that which he couldn't see. A mix of colors there and then. Lime and Blue. Fabric. He could feel Hoodie fabric, but not of his own. 

"It'll be okay… it's not as torturous as you form it to be…"

… Dream? Although the voice was hard to hear, echos upon echos, fuzzy and distant, he could still tell what he said. 

"... I don't think your right-" 

Words escaped his own lips, only to be sealed shut again by a hellscaped touch. As he can tell the burning lips from his own, he cant help but wonder as he so fades himself into the devilish touch. Twisted fingers laced together in seething pain, but it was welcomed as the price to pay.

Was telling him really the best choice?


End file.
